


Names are Power, but Mine is a Curse

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 20:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: Rumplestiltskin has loathed his name for as long as he can remember, but when the woman he loves speaks it, it seems to take the edge off the pain his cumbersome moniker has caused him.





	Names are Power, but Mine is a Curse

Names are Power, but Mine is a Curse

A/AN: A little something which popped in my head...

Rumpelstiltskin had loathed his name since he could form syllables into words. His name had always been a mouthful, and when he was a lad, his peers had relentlessly teased him for it. His father had despised him for his mother's disappearance. He'd often reminded him of how much he detested being his father, so he'd attached the wretched moniker onto his livelihood. 

Bearing his burdensome title had become even more cumbersome when he'd wed Milah. She barely spoke a decent word to him once their marriage went sour, after he'd abandoned the battlefront. His name was a bitter curse word on her lips. His detestable name had too many derogatory terms attached to it: coward, cripple, fool, ugly – the list was never ending in his head.

When he became the Dark One, he desired for his name to strike fear into those which had dishonored him. He discovered his title held much power and sway over others. His name was no longer a byword but allowed him easy access into the most revered places in the realm.

Over the centuries, he continued to build his reputation, crafting an indestructible empire of power and gold. He'd acquired more wealth and fame than he knew what to do with. His son was missing and he'd worked tirelessly to find him, but he knew many years still stood between them before his plan would come to fruition. There was still a hole in his heart, though he was hesitant to admit it. Company wasn't something he desired. Mortals were fickle beings, always tirelessly searching for how to usurp power over the next unsuspecting fool. Rumpelstiltskin had grown weary of his dealings with them.

He'd become bored with his hoards of riches and constant trickery. He barely reached out to the power hungry kings and the desperate paupers anymore, but one day as he was spinning at the wheel, he heard someone calling him. Their voice was reminiscent of a tinkling brook and beautiful bird songs. He halted the wheel, deciding to investigate its source. 

After following the voice's pleas for help, he found himself in a small merchant kingdom in the farthest corners of the realm. The miniscule kingdom was barely a smudge on the map, and he wasn't sure he'd have answered if it wasn't for the alluring voice which had petitioned him to save their kingdom from the ogres. When he'd walked through the doors to the throne room, he found himself face to face with a beautiful princess, hell-bent on saving her kingdom, even if it meant leaving her life of luxury and familiarity behind.

He wasn't certain what had compelled him to request she become the caretaker of his estate in return for sparing her kingdom. Perhaps it was because he was lonely as she'd pointed out during those months which followed. 

She'd caused him to feel vulnerable and made him desire to grant her the best version of himself. When she spoke his name, it caused his blackened heart to involuntarily somersault within his chest. The way she enunciated it made it sound like reverent prayer from a priestess's lips. Inwardly he still loathed his moniker, but she made it feel less painful when she spoke it, as if she had the power to erase all of the scars and pain it had caused his tattered soul.

Rumpelstiltskin knew his name would never be an eloquent soliloquy, but when Belle said it, it felt more like a healing balm than a spiteful curse. If he could hear her speak it with more love than he'd felt in his painful existence, then he would learn to treasure the appeal she perceived in his beastly moniker.


End file.
